One night at Waffle House, my 5-year-old son, Josiah, spotted a man outside, worn and carrying all his belongings. “Who is that?” Josiah asked. “I think he’s homeless,” I explained. Josiah, confused, asked what that meant, and I told him it meant the man didn’t have a home or food.

Before I could stop him, Josiah ran outside and invited the man in for a meal. “You can eat with us!” he beamed. The man hesitated, but I smiled and encouraged him to join us. When the waitress came, Josiah eagerly ordered him the biggest burger.

Then, my son did something incredible. He asked to pray and bowed his head, saying a blessing. Eleven people in the restaurant—including the man—had tears in their eyes. The man looked at Josiah as if he had been seen for the first time in years.

As we chatted, other diners began paying for meals and leaving money for anyone in need. The waitress, overwhelmed, remarked, “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Josiah, unaware of the impact, just grinned as the man took his first bite.

The man looked at Josiah and shared how he once had a son of his own, and how Josiah’s kindness gave him hope. “It’s never too late,” I told him.

Before we left, Josiah gave the man his favorite red hoodie, saying, “So you won’t be cold.” The man held it close, overwhelmed. As we left, I looked back to see the truck driver and the older woman talking to him, treating him with respect and kindness.

That night, I tucked Josiah into bed, and he asked, “Did I do a good thing, Mommy?” I kissed his forehead. “You did a wonderful thing, sweetheart.” He smiled, “I want to do it again tomorrow.”

Kindness isn’t something we do once; it’s something we live every day.